Chris was coming toward her, still in his uniform, claystreaked across his chest and down one leg of his pants. He stopped when he was right in front of her, and she waited for him to smile again, waited for some sign that this was really happening. But he looked quietly serious as he held out a hand.
“Dance with me?” he said.
But you don’t dance, she wanted to say. Or,Here? Now? To this song?But the moment felt big and fragile all at once, and she didn’t want to risk it. She put her hand in his, and just the feel of his strong fingers wrapping around hers, his other hand gripping her waist…it felt like that first time back in your own bed after spending nights in a hotel.
“I got your message,” he said. “Sorry it took so long. I’d deleted Instagram off my phone.”
“That’s okay,” she said faintly.
“Have you really never seen theRockymovies?”
Of everything she’d said in that message,thatwas what he wanted to talk to her about? “No,” she admitted. “But I mean, I know the gist.”
“Hmm.”
They were barely swaying to the music, the merest hint of dancing. He still held her hand in his, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. He wasn’t wearing his hat, so there was nothing hiding his face from her, but his eyes were hooded as he looked down at their joined hands. She was about to break the silence when he spoke again.
“I wanted to thank you,” he said. “For telling me all that. I don’t know that I needed it—I’d already started thinking about how I could convince you to give me another chance. But there was still a lot in there that I did need to hear.”
She craned her neck to look up at him. “Megiveyoua second chance? I think you have that backward.”
His gaze flickered to hers. “I said some things that day that Ireally regret,” he said. “And I didn’t say some other ones that I regret even more. I do love you, Daphne. I fell in love with you twice—first with your words and your kindness and the way talking to you always felt like the best surprise and the greatest comfort all at the same time. Then I fell in love withyou—with your laugh and your generosity and the way you make everything else brighter. You’re the book I want to reread. For the rest of my life.”
Her eyes had filled with tears, threatening to fall, and he cupped her face in his hands. “Ah,” he said. “Please don’t cry. I never meant to make you cry.”
“These are good tears,” she said. “I promise.”
He swiped his thumbs across her cheeks, still holding her face. “Feel your feelings,” he said, then gave her a crooked smile. “That’s what my therapist says. I see her once a week now.”
That surprised her. “Has it been helpful?”
“You know…yeah. It has.” He sounded almost surprised himself. “She told me that my goal couldn’t be not to have regrets, or not to feel sad, or not to ever experience any bad emotion ever. Those are all inevitable. My goal has to be to find ways to live my life even with those feelings in it, to leave space in my life for those feelings even.”
“And that resonated for you?”
“It did,” Chris said. “I mean, I immediately translated it into a sports metaphor to make it resonatemore. But yeah, I can see how I was trying to make my grief as small as possible, and that just wasn’t going to work. And then even when it came to you—any feelings I had about finding out you were Duckie, I should’ve stuck around to express them, to process themwithyou. But instead I just shut down again.”
“I don’t blame you for that,” Daphne said. “What I did—”
Chris shook his head, sliding his thumb down to press against her mouth. “It’s okay,” he said. “You said everything you neededto already. I understand how it happened. In a weird way, I’m grateful it all happened the way it did. I can’t imagine a world where I didn’t get to have those conversations with you, where I didn’t get to know you in all the ways that I did.”
“I’m really sorry I stood you up for the game,” she said, her voice a hoarse whisper.
He looked up, glancing around the empty stadium. He dropped his hands from her face, and she missed their warmth, but then he was drawing her closer to him by wrapping his arms around her waist. “I don’t know,” he said, starting to move to the music until she twined her own arms around his neck. “This would’ve been how I’d hoped that night might end up. I’d have spotted you in the seats, and when the game was over I would’ve caught your eye, gestured for you to come down to the field. Not to brag, but I know the woman who works that gate over there.”
He nodded toward the gate that opened from the stands out onto the field, and Daphne glanced over at it before looking back at Chris, raising her eyebrows incredulously. “Youknowher?” she said.
“Her name’s Edna,” he said. “Very nice lady, but normally pretty strict about letting random people through that gate.”
“But I’m not random.”
His gaze ran over her face, from her forehead down to her mouth. “No,” he said finally. “You’re Duckie. And I would’ve convinced Edna to let you through.”
She slid her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a little longer than he usually kept it. She liked it. “And then what? You would’ve convinced me to dance with you on the field?”
Chris laughed. “I wish,” he said. “I would not have had that level of game.”
“Don’t sell yourself short.”